A New Harry Potter
by TheologyDiscography
Summary: Harry is kidnapped. This has unexpected consequences on his mental health. This summery sucks. Please read it anyway.
1. Chapter 1

I just want to tell everyone at the outset, this one's going to be more than a little bit odd. it involves kidnapping and statuatory rape.

there are so many stories where harry was raped as a child, with negitive emotion connected to it, and i wanted to do one where it actually imporooved his mental state. i do not know if this is even psychologically possible, but for the sake of the story, we'll pretend it is, ok? and as allways, i don't care if you think it's too wierd and don't want to read it, but please don't read it and then flame me for impossibility, or for it being 'sick'. yeah, the relationship in the begenning is sick. i'm not trying to say it's right, because it's not. and i've already said i don't know if this could ever really happen or not. i will use any flames to toast marshmellows over.

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Harry huddled in on himself in the tunnel of the playground. He was cold, but he couldn't go home yet. Aunt Petunia had told him to stay out until it got dark so she could entertain Uncle Vernon's guests without him getting in the way. A man walked up to him, and he flinched back. The man pretended he didn't notice.

"Hey youngling. You cold?" He sounded so concerned, that Harry trusted him despite himself. He nodded. "You want to come with me and warm up?" The man held out his hand, and after a long moment, Harry took it. The man scooped Harry up and tucked him inside his jacket. "I'm afraid it's a bit of a walk to my house. This warm enough for now?" Harry nodded and cuddled into the man's warmth. He was so cold.

The man walked in silence for about fifteen minutes before speaking again. "My name's Fredrick. What's your name, youngling?" Harry didn't answer, too busy trying to stay awake to focus on what the man was saying. "Hey, don't fall asleep on me, little one. You're too cold. You can take a nap once we get you warmed up." Harry nodded again, struggling valiantly to keep his eyes open. The man kept up a running commentary on everything and anything until they reached his house, his voice harsh, and yet soothing. Somehow, his voice anchored Harry, helping him to stay awake.

"Alright, youngling. We're home. Just a few more minutes and you can go to sleep if you still want to." Harry nodded again. The man chuckled, setting Harry down so he could open the door. "Don't you talk?" Harry shook his head. "No? Why not, I wonder?" Harry just stuck his thumb in his mouth, signaling that he was uncomfortable with the conversation. "How old are you, little one?" Harry held up his hand, five fingers spread wide. "Five?" Harry nodded. "Boy, you don't look it, you're so tiny." Harry smiled slightly. He heard that all the time.

Fredrick got him a bowl of hot soup from the crock-pot sitting next to the stove. "I like having something hot as soon as I come in. Be careful; don't burn yourself. It's really hot." Harry nodded, blowing carefully on each spoonful of soup, humming in delight at the taste. "You like it?"

"'S'goo'!" Harry exclaimed. Fredrick smiled, even though he was upset that this boy still talked like he was two. Maybe he had a speech disability or something; it didn't necessarily mean his family neglected him, though he rather thought they did. Why else would the boy have been by himself on the playground catching hypothermia?

"Yes, I thought it was rather good myself." Harry quickly finished the small portion. "Do you want some more?" Harry shook his head quickly, eyes wide, as though he was afraid he'd get in trouble. "I have plenty; I live out here all by myself. You can have some more if you want." Hands shaking slightly, Harry held his bowl out to him. Fredrick took it gravely, spooning more soup into it before setting it back before the child. "Here you are, mis pequeño."

"T'ank you," Harry whispered, dipping in his spoon.

"You are most welcome, little one. I always have enough to share with a friend." Harry looked at him, eyes wide at being called a friend. He had never had any friends. The children in town were all scared of Dudley, and the adults just didn't care what happened to him. A broad smile stole over his face. This man –Fredrick?- was someone who cared about him; something he hadn't had since his parents died when he was only a year old.

"The sun's setting," Fredrick commented lightly. "When do you have to be home?"

"Dark," Harry whispered.

"Well then, we'd better got you home pretty soon, eh?" Harry nodded slightly. He didn't want to leave. Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon resented that he had to live with them since his parents died, as they were his only living relatives. But it would look bad to put their own blood in an orphanage, so they kept him, or at least that was why he presumed they kept him; he knew better than to try to ask them anything. He'd just get slapped and no answer. Fredrick noticed the look on his face and smiled to himself. This wouldn't be anywhere near as hard as he thought it would be.

"You can come back and visit me soon. I'll meet you on the playground. But only when there's nobody there. People might get suspicious if they see us together a lot." Harry nodded reluctantly, wanting to tell the man that nobody cared what he did, but he couldn't find the words. Fredrick dug through a box near the backdoor.

"Stuff my mom sent me from when I was a kid," he explained. "I never really went through it, but I remember there were a couple of sweaters in here. Maybe one would fit you." He pulled out a sweater that he had specifically bought for the tiny boy, not that he was going to tell anyone that. He handed it to the child, who stared at it for a long moment, then pulled off the oversized, ragged sweater he was already wearing, revealing a pale, emaciated chest before slipping the sweater on, pulling the other one back on over it, cleverly concealing his new clothing. Fredrick's heart constricted at the sight of the boy's obvious malnourishment, as well as the fact that he felt it necessary to hide something so common as a sweater. He swore that he would get the boy away from those people he called family as soon as possible. While his interest in the boy was not what would commonly be called 'good', he had strong feelings on how you treated children, and neglect and starvation were two things he could not stand to see.

* * *

Harry was a frequent visitor to Fredrick's house over the next months. Even after it warmed up, he would often come over for a meal or two, and as time passed, he spent entire weekends there, without anyone noticing. Slowly, but surely, he opened up to the man, who treated his ever increasing trust with a great deal of respect and a touch of awe, that a boy so mistreated could even understand what it meant to trust. Harry started talking more around him, and he made sure to always respond to anything he said, no matter how casual or silly. And Harry was often silly; in the manner of a five year old, everything was funny, and he wanted to share everything with the only person he had who cared about him at all.

"Bir'day!" Harry exclaimed happily as he crossed the threshold into the delightfully cinnamon scented kitchen.

"It's your birthday?" Harry nodded. "Say it. 'It's my birthday."

"It's my birthday," Harry repeated dutifully, still smiling. Fredrick smiled.

"Happy birthday, pequeño." Fredrick said smiling. "And for a birthday present, I have a question for you." Harry looked at him quizzically. "Would you like to stay here with me?" Harry's eyes grew wide.

"Really? You mean it?!" he asked excitedly. Fredrick chuckled.

"Yes, I mean it. But you wouldn't get to play around all the time like you do now. You'd be learning even more than you do at school." Harry frowned.

"Can't learn much at school anyway. If I best Dudley, Uncl' Vernon get mad."

"_Uncle_ Vernon _gets_ mad," Fredrick corrected.

"Uncle Vernon gets mad." Fredrick nodded for him to continue. "I really like school, but I get so bored." Fredrick chuckled.

"Well, I can promise you won't be bored here. We'll learn some math, and some spelling, and some language, and science, and history, and music, and art; we'll just make you an all-around well educated gentleman!" Fredrick smiled at him, and Harry smiled back.

"I'd like that. I'd love to stay here with you."

"Did anyone see you coming here?" Harry shook his head.

"Nobody cares what I do. Unless I'm bleeding or something, it's like they don't even see me. But no, I didn't see anyone on my way here. Why?" Fredrick sighed.

"Because. It won't exactly be legal for you to stay here. They'd call me a kidnapper, even though you wanted to stay with me. You can't let anyone see you, or they'll come and take you back to your aunt and uncle." Harry nodded again, eyes wide. He didn't want to go back to his aunt and uncle, ever.


	2. Chapter 2

The first thing Fredrick did when Harry agreed to stay with him was to have the boy take off his clothes so he could take pictures of his underfed body, as well as the pictures he'd already taken of him in his baggy, worn clothing. Harry agreed with little encouragement, but he wanted to know why. Fredrick sighed.

"Because the reason most people kidnap children is to hurt them. I don't want to hurt you, but most people will not believe that. I need the pictures so I can show them to people if anyone ever comes to take you away from me. They will help keep me from getting in trouble." Harry nodded agreeably. He didn't want to think about what would happen if he got taken away from Fredrick, as he would be taken back to the Dursleys, but he would do all he could to help Fredrick from getting in trouble if it ever happened. As each picture was taken, it was laid out in a row on the desk. Once they were done, Harry scurried over to the desk, absently pulling on the clothes Fredrick handed him, watching, fascinated, as the photos developed.

Fredrick handed him an envelope with a smile. "Would you write on this?" Harry nodded, taking the envelope and a pen, guessing this was another part of the plan to keep Fredrick out of trouble. "Write, Harry Potter, 6th birthday, July 21, 1996." Fredrick spelled the words out for Harry as he did so, struggling to make the writing as neat as possible, but it was still very sloppy. He was, after all, just turned six, and he hadn't even begun learning his letters until he got to school, though after he met Fredrick, they had worked on a lot of school stuff together, so Harry could catch up. Harry handed the envelope back to Fredrick, who placed the developed Polaroids in it, sealing the glue on the edge so it would be obvious that he was not looking at them regularly. 'Like I'd want to do that anyway. The boy's way too thin,' Fredrick thought absently as he worked. He put the pictures in the top drawer on his desk, along with his observations of the boy over the past year and a half that he had been watching him; though he had only approached him five months ago, he had been watching him far longer. Also in there were copies of his school grade reports that Harry had brought him, and copies of the work they had done together. He planned to have a large amount of evidence that he had only been helping Harry, and taking care of him and teaching him, while it had been his relatives who had mistreated him. And if they realized he had done what he was planning to do, well, a family that can neglect and starve a boy like that surely wouldn't hesitate to do other things.

Months passed for Harry and Fredrick in happy isolation. Fredrick had a computer, a new one, that he patiently taught Harry how to use, guiding him through the basic programs like Microsoft Word, Excel, and PowerPoint; Adobe Reader and Photoshop, before hooking the internet back up as a reward for his diligence in his studies.

He bought him CD's, and a CD player, and the boy listened to all kinds of music. He particularly favored the rap and rock, and Fredrick bought him all kinds of both, as well as classical or various types, blues, jazz; just about every type of music conceivable was added to Harry's collection, and he loved almost all of them, his tastes in music apparently being very eclectic.

He bought the boy clothes that actually fit -taking him all the way into London and making a day of it, leaving before the sun came up and not returning until well after dark to avoid notice- once he had brought the boy up to a decent weight for a child his age and you could no longer see his bones through his skin. The ladies at the clothing store he had chosen fussed over the boy, who squirmed uncomfortably at their fond attention, though he was grinning. Fredrick passed him off as a nephew by marriage, as they obviously weren't related by blood, with Harry's pale skin, black hair, and bright green eyes; so different from Fredrick's own swarthy tan, with amber eyes and hair. There were a couple of strange looks, as Harry had been put on the list of missing children, but people dismissed the likeness, as Harry was happily grinning and clutching his hand, acting as though he had been with him all his life.

The one thing that was missing in young Harry's life was socializing with children his age; as they were trying to keep his presence unnoticed he could not go around the other children anymore. Not that he missed it; the children in the village were always picking on him, or at least ignoring him, because of Dudley. He had Fredrick's almost constant companionship, and that was enough for him, which pleased Fredrick, as he wanted Harry to be just a little bit emotionally dependent on him. It would make it easier to coax the boy into doing whatever he wanted if he was the only person Harry had.

Six months later, he repeated the photo shoot, to demonstrate how much Harry had improved. You could no longer see his bones, and he had gained almost 3 inches in height. Harry was smiled happily through the photo shoot, where before he had been very nervous, and ran over to watch the photos developing as soon as Fredrick said he could move.

Even though he and Fredrick used up a package of film taking pictures of and for him almost every day, he was always fascinated by watching them develop, and loved waving them around to develop them faster. It was a constant source of entertainment for him to see how the blank gray of the film would slowly change into vague shapes and colors, and then into the pictures of whatever the picture had been taken of, first in the middle, then reaching out to the corners until all the gray was gone. It was to the point that Fredrick had to hide the film to keep him from taking it all up in one day. Fredrick watched him with a smile on his face, shifting slightly to hide his growing erection. Now that Harry was acting more like a normal child, he found his actions incredibly erotic. But he was afraid of scaring the boy with his desires. He didn't want Harry to pull away from him now that he really trusted him. He was rather surprised how much of a loss that would be.

* * *

**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**

Alright. You're begenning to see a bit more of Fredrick's motivations here. Remember, I am not writing this because I find it appealing. I am defining their relationship because it will have a major effect on Harry's state of mind, and as I said in the summery, it isn't the usual expected reaction. And also, remember, despite what else he wants from Harry, Fredrick is genuinely fond of the boy, and mostly treats him like a son or nephew he's fond of. Mostly. He is being very careful not to frighten Harry, and to make Harry think he's the one in control of their relationship, and mostly he is, though Fredrick will manipulate him some to get what he wants, and make him think it's normal and accepted, which he'll accept, as he diesn't have any other influence anymore, and the only influences he had before were negitive.

-

And I just couldn't resist putting in the bit with the Polaroid photos, because it was a major source of entertainment to me as a child.


	3. Chapter 3

Just for the record, I really don't like this chapter. I mean, it's well written so far as I can see, and it gets across a point I'm trying to make, so it's needed, not gratituitous chan, but still. I just don't really like it. Just not that big of a perv I guess. Then again, I did write it....

Anyway, don't flame me if you don't like. I'm not planning any more unless my muse decides it's absolutely necessary, but there will likely be a few brief flashbacks later on. Yes, just repeat, there is a point to having this scene, and that's to demonstrait just how their relationship works.

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ANHPAHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHP

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Fredrick smiled fondly as Harry danced around the living room, head bobbing in time to the music. Stopping suddenly, Harry ran over and climbed into his lap, planting himself squarely on Fredrick's erection, causing the older man to groan. He looked up questioningly. Fredrick tried to smile reassuringly at him, but most of his mind was consumed by the fact that Harry was in his lap while he had an erection. He hadn't thought Harry would come over to him, and had allowed himself to fantasize about the boy while he watched his innocent dancing. Now it was coming back to bite him in the butt, and he was worried that he would frighten Harry. He could, very easily if he wasn't careful. Harry twisted around to look at him, making him groan again as he shifted against him. Harry froze. Fredrick raised a slightly unsteady hand and ran it reassuringly through Harry's hair, unable to come up with anything appropriate to say.

"What's wrong, Fredrick?" Harry asked, confused. Fredrick gently pulled him against his chest.

"Nothing's wrong, little one."

"But you sounded like you do when you have a problem with something." A gentle kiss to the boy's forehead.

"No pequeño. Everything's fine." Harry relaxed against his chest, bringing one hand to rest on his chest, sticking his other thumb into his mouth. "I was thinking about something I really enjoyed. And my body reacted to that. When you touched me, it felt really good, and that's why I groaned. Not because something was wrong."

"I made you feel good?" Harry asked, pleased with the accomplishment. Fredrick was always doing things to make him feel good and be happy here. It felt good to know he had done something for the other man, even if it was accidental.

"Very good, youngling." Fredrick's breath caught as Harry squirmed in his lap. Harry grinned up at him, and he couldn't resist placing a tiny kiss on the boy's lips. Harry froze for a second, then moved to mimic Fredrick, pressing his own kiss to the older man's lips.

"I like making you feel good," Harry said, softly but surely. Fredrick closed his eyes at his words.

"You want to do more to make me feel good?" Harry nodded. He shifted Harry to the side, silently mourning the loss of Harry's warmth against him, and unfastened his pants, raising up to push them down. "Touch me?" Harry nodded again, reaching out a hand, laying it on Fredrick's stiff flesh. He froze when Fredrick hissed in a breath between his teeth. "Feels good. Keep going?" He wasn't about to command Harry, not in this, but he really didn't want to boy to stop. He'd been waiting for this since he'd first taken the boy in, almost 10 months ago. Harry grew bolder with the reassurance, stroking his hand lightly down Fredrick's length a couple of times. He looked up at Fredrick, who nodded approval of what he was doing. He smiled slightly, happy and secure in Fredrick's approval. Fredrick gently wrapped a hand over his, moving up and down his shaft a couple of times, sliding his thumb around the head, hissing again. He pulled his hand away, and Harry continued to stroke him, his other hand smoothing gentle fingers around his head. He groaned again, the fact that this was Harry doing it to him this time bringing him off quickly. Harry flinched back in surprise as fluid shot from him, and he barely managed to catch the boy before he fell to the floor. His hand was covered in come, and Fredrick grabbed it gently, licking down his palm and making him giggle. Harry backed away slightly, and Fredrick let him go.

"Why don't you go wash up, youngling. Otherwise you'll get smelly." He wrinkled his nose at the boy, making him giggle again as he headed towards the bathroom, as he headed towards his room and the master bath attached.

Harry washed his hands quickly, making sure he got all the stuff off before he turned the water off, drying his hands thoroughly on the fluffy towel. He hadn't been expecting it, and it had caught him by surprise. Good thing Fredrick had caught him, or he would have smacked his head on the floor. He wanted to know what it was that Fredrick had been asking him to do, but it was a bit difficult without knowing the names of anything involved.

Sitting down in front of his computer, he decided to start with a picture and work from there. So, bringing up the search page, he typed in 'anatomy labeled' and clicked image.

Pictures filled the page, and he scrolled down until he saw one he thought had the information he was looking for. Clicking on it, he waited until the image filled the screen before scrolling down to the portion of it he wanted.

Getting the name, he went back to search again. Most of the sites that came up just confused him, but he got the general idea that it had to do with sex. He continued to search, filing away ideas that made sense to him to try another time, since Fredrick had liked him touching him so much. Going back to the list after yet another odd site, he typed in 'sex men' to see what that brought up, since the majority of the sites had been male/female, and he wasn't sure how much applied when it was two males. He got a lot of the same, but there was a few with man/man suggestions, some of which he thought was just gross, but there were some he would consider. Hearing Fredrick coming down the stairs, he shifted the page to one of his favorite game sites, leaving any additional research for another time.

"Whatcha lookin' at youngling?" Fredrick asked jovially. Harry looked up to grin at him.

"Playin' games. I'm hungry, Fredrick." Fredrick smiled at him.

"And what do you want to eat?"

"Hamburgers!" Fredrick put his hands on his hips.

"So now I'm supposed to go get you hamburgers?" he asked teasingly.

"Yes!" Harry nodded. "Please?"

"Well, since you asked so nicely. I'll be back in half an hour. Will you be ok by yourself for that long?" Harry nodded again, and Fredrick grabbed his keys, heading out to fetch the requested burgers.

Fredrick sighed with relief as he shut the door behind him. He had been nervous, but Harry wasn't acting any different than normal. He smiled. Harry was so eager to do anything to please, he felt a bit guilty to be preying on the boy's emotions like he was, but it wasn't like he was going to do anything to hurt him. He wanted Harry to feel safe and secure with him, to know that he could come to Fredrick with anything and not be turned away or scorned like he had been with his family. To this point, he had always been open and honest with the child, and saw no reason to do otherwise now when it was getting him such pleasant results. Harry was a remarkable child. He knew Harry would have questions, and only hoped they wouldn't be too embarrassing.

-

ANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANHPANPANHPANHPANHP

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And here, Harry shows a bit of his Slytherin side. Not a lot, but hey, Fredrick would accept just about anything he wanted to look at. Besides the differences for his emotional state, Fredrick is trying to treat him like an adult as much as possible.

I'll continue as I can, but i'm really behind on several of my other stories, so it'll probably be a while before another update. I don't forsee anything else being as hard to write as that was, well, not anything guy/guy, anyway. I'm not good at any other form of intercourse.

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Aralia Tutela


	4. Chapter 4

Ok, just to warn you people who might not notice it: there's a timeskip! We are now on the day before Harry's 11th birthday, and he's already gotten his Hogwarts letter, which as you remember started trying to get to him a couple weeks before his birthday in the book.

_**HPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHPHP**_

__Harry stared sullenly out the window at the countryside flashing by. They hadn't even let him ride with Fredrick. One of the people in the car with him tried to catch his attention, but he turned the volume up on his mp3 player and ignored her. She was the reason he had to leave in the first place.  
They pulled up in front of a large, official-looking building, and Harry scampered out of the car as soon as it stopped, clutching the backpack containing his laptop and DVD collection tightly to his chest. That, and the mp3 player, he wouldn't allow any of the people who had come to pick him up touch. And he also had his secret weapon in the bag, which made it even more important that he keep it out of reach of those who wanted to hurt Fredrick until the time was right to smash them with it.

He kept just out of reach, close enough that they didn't think he was going to run away, but far enough that he didn't have to endure their supposedly reassuring pats and touches. If he wasn't playing the traumatized innocent, he would have snapped at them, warning them he would press harassment charges if they didn't leave off. But he didn't want them to know just how far into the legal system he had penetrated. He had, with only minimal assistance from Fredrick, worked his way through math as far as algebra, English up to the ninth grade level, theoretical science up through what was usually taught at high schools, the basics of the social sciences, including geography and government, and ancient history, which had always fascinated him. Fredrick had also taught him every language in his formidable repertoire, including Spanish, French, Italian, and English of course, along with a handful of Latin, Greek, and Russian.

He rolled his eyes as they escorted him into the private room of the doctor's office as though they expected him to try to bolt at the unfamiliar environment. But although he had never been to the hospital before, he had been a regular doctor's office enough to be comfortable with them, though he didn't really like them. After all, a brother might do his favorite sister a favor and take his beloved nephew to the doctor for his checkups so she could take the time to do something for herself.

When the doctor entered the room, Harry dug into his backpack, as the woman who had taken him away told him that they had found no evidence that he had been to a doctor since his kidnapping. Snorting softly, he handed the doctor the copy of his medical records, with a cover containing all the information on the doctor's office and his medical and insurance policies stapled on the front.

"Fredrick gave them to me to keep up with. He said it would teach me responsibility, so he wouldn't be responsible for setting a brat on the world." He smiled as he said that, remembering the giggle fit that had overtaken him when Fredrick had said that, since he'd just pointed out that Dudley had never gotten to touch anything important, even if it was about him. The doctor leaned back against the counter, flipping through the records slowly, then walked out of the room, taking the folder with him. Harry suppressed a malicious smile when the woman who had brought him here nearly punched the door in frustration.

Sensing they were going to be waiting a while, he pulled his laptop out of his bag, plugging in _League of Extraordinary Gentlemen_. He grabbed his headphones and settled in to wait. He really wished he had some popcorn.

* * *

Maria sighed with exasperation as the boy ostentatiously thumbed the volume on his iPod, turning even more towards the window. He acted like she had been the one to hurt him, not Rogers. And he hadn't smiled or laughed once since he had realized they were taking him away from his kidnapper, taking him back home. Since Rogers had been escorted to the waiting police cruiser, he had only spoken when one of the social workers could get him to admit they had caught his attention, which wasn't easy.

She needed to go over his experiences living with Fredrick Rogers, though. The man was an accused child molester, though he had never been convicted. The child in question turned out to have been raped by her father, and that was what had triggered her running away in the first place. Dirty business, but it had been enough, when added to the girl's obvious trust of the man, to get Rogers off. She hoped to correct that wrong today, and had set it up so that they went straight from the house to the hospital for a complete medical examination, and the same in his education, then to the courtroom for the preliminary hearing.

He was clutching that backpack so tight; she wondered what he had in it. He had barred them all from his room, locking it from the inside as he packed. The rather large suitcase filled with clothes and accessories he had surrendered to them, but he had nearly taken Jimmy's hand off when he tried to take the backpack. It was obviously important to him, and perhaps that was what was really important. It was probably only some childish treasure, anyway. The child had been through a rough time, especially for a little boy not quite turned eleven, and he needed whatever reassurance he could find, since he would not allow them to comfort him. He wouldn't even allow them to touch him, but the way he shrugged them off implied that he didn't consider them worthy of contact with them, rather than fear of touch.

He had skittishly stayed just out of reach going through the hospital, but though he looked around curiously, he showed no inclination to run. Which was slightly odd, as he had made it clear that he didn't want to be with them, but he almost seemed to be trying to reassure them that he wouldn't run. If he had been older, that's exactly what she would have thought was going on.

He sat calmly on the examination, and she admired his self-possession, even as she wondered what could have possibly caused it. A child shouldn't sit that still. He wasn't even tapping his fingers when the doctor walked in minutes later.

She turned her attention away from the child to the doctor, explaining that she needed a complete medical examination, since she had found no evidence of any medical history at all, when the child interrupted with a sweet smile and the comment about teaching responsibility by letting him keep his medical records. The doctor took the file slowly, and his face grew more and more involved as he read, until he suddenly turned and hurried out of the room, muttering vaguely about 'calling them'. She gritted her teeth, and clenched her fist, but restrained from any other release of her temper because of the boy. It would be most unprofessional to go hitting walls in front of him. He might think she would hit him next. And they were on public property anyway, which meant she could be fined if she did any damage. Not to mention, such behavior would likely make her loose her job.

When she turned back to the child from her pointless staring at the door, he was sprawled out on his stomach, completely enthralled with something he was watching on the screen of a seventeen-inch laptop. She smiled at him, though he wasn't paying attention to her.

* * *

It was nearly half an hour later when the doctor walked back in.

"I do apologize for the wait, but since the child was kind enough to give me the phone number of his doctors office, I felt it was necessary to call and verify what I was reading. However, since I have this, I can shave a few hours off of the examination. If you could clear the room please?" the tone of his voice indicated that this was not a request, and the boy relaxed as they filed out, sitting up straight on the table.

"Have they been bothering you, child?" the doctor asked sympathetically as the door closed. Harry shrugged.

"They seem to think that I need reassured that I am going to be returned to my oh-so-loving family as soon as possible. I don't even want to go back. I went with Fredrick in the first place because he was the one who found me clothes when I was cold, and fed me when I was hungry, not the Dursleys." He looked at the doctor measuringly. "If I showed you something, would you make sure it stayed secret until the hearing?" Looking intrigued, the doctor nodded agreeably, and Harry pulled a small manila envelope from his bag. He handed it to the doctor, who took it silently and opened it. "It wasn't just my med records I had. Everything pertaining to me, I kept." Onto the table spilled out ten letter-sized envelopes. Harry laid them out by date, and the doctor smiled at the shaky hand on the first couple, evidence that Harry had labeled them himself.

When he got a good look at the pictures in the first envelope, however, he dropped them on the floor, eyes wide with horror. Swallowing hard, he picked them up, looking carefully at each one. He swiftly went through the rest of them, relaxing when the terrible emaciation was softened considerably in the next set, and was mostly unnoticeable a year later.

"Anything else I can do for you before I examine you?" he asked, not meeting his eyes.

"A letter saying you unsealed the envelopes?" Harry asked. The doctor smiled at him, and promised it would be done.

* * *

Hours later, Harry was escorted into a small, yet echoing room. When he got near the front, he saw Fredrick sitting at a table, and he broke into a run, flinging himself into the man's arms just as the Judge entered. Not at all bothered, Fredrick carried Harry up with him when he stood, holding him securely against his chest. Moments later, a security guard stepped forward to take Harry from him. Harry resisted, clinging to him.

"Youngling, stop. You are only causing trouble." Harry looked up at Fredrick, teary green eyes wide.

"Fredrick, I don't want the to take you away from me. I love you, Fredrick." Fredrick tousled his hair affectionately.

"And I you childling, but you must cooperate now. You know this." Harry sighed, but slid down, walking back to the table where his supposed rescuer was waiting, ignoring the guard watching him carefully. He climbed up to sit on the table, playing the lost child for all he was worth. He didn't want any attention on him besides sympathy, or even pity. As long as they underestimated him until it was his turn, he would be happy.

"Fredrick Rogers, you stand accused of one count of kidnapping against one Harry Potter. How do you plead?"

"Not guilty," Fredrick replied steadily.

"One charge of sexual assault against one Harry Potter."

"Not guilty."

"One charge of violating the terms of your release as a suspected child offender." Fredrick paused for a long moment.

"That, I am guilty of," he said finally, as though it hadn't occurred to him before that he would be charged with that. Maria smirked triumphantly.

"Your Honor?" Harry said, just loud enough for the judge to hear. "I have some records for you, if I may. They didn't find anything because anything that was about me, Fredrick let me keep up with it. It was all in my room, which was the only room they didn't search."

"Why not?" the judge asked.

"He locked us out until he was finished packing. I had wondered what he was keeping from us so fiercely, your Honor, but I figured that he didn't need the stress of fighting with me over what was probably a trivial matter on top of everything else."

"Why didn't you give the records to them, child?"

"She," Harry gestured to Maria with his chin, "wants Fredrick to get in trouble. I didn't trust her."

"Bring them to me then, child. I assure you, my only interest is seeing justice done." Harry nodded and dug out a small manila envelope, and three thick folders, a blue one labeled 'med', a green one labeled with a dollar sign, and a purple one labeled 'edu'.

"The envelope is photographs of me, taken once every six months from when I moved in with Fredrick."

"Moved in with?" The judge repeated questioningly. Harry nodded.

"I'd been going to his house every day for a year and a half. On my sixth birthday, which was a Friday, by the way, he offered to let me live with him, and I said yes."

"Why did you go to his house?"

"I'd go every day after school, and he'd help me with my homework, and give me something to eat. Between him and school, I never starved, but I was hungry. Dudley stole my lunch a lot, and I usually didn't get dinner, and never breakfast. I bet they didn't ever report me missing until Sunday afternoon, when it became obvious I wasn't going to just show up again." After a few more questions, the judge retired, going to look over the new information. Harry carried his laptop over to Fredrick and curled up on his lap, feet braced against his knees, setting the computer on the table in front of him. Maria frowned, but Harry glared at her so fiercely she decided discretion was the better part of valor and left him alone, making a mental note to get the boy into counseling for Stockholm syndrome. The boy obviously had an unhealthy attachment to his kidnapper.

* * *

Harry stared blindly out the window of the smallest bedroom of the Dursley house, thinking. Fredrick hadn't gotten off, because he did know he wasn't supposed to be around kids unsupervised for another year and a half, because he had taken in some girl who had gotten raped, and they thought he might have done it. He had taken Harry in anyway because he couldn't stand to see kids getting hurt.

He rolled his eyes as his aunt pounded on the doorframe and stiffly announced that dinner was ready. Since the trial three days ago, they were being watched so closely that they barely dared talk to him for fear of saying something wrong and getting him and Dudley taken away. He was sure that it wasn't loosing him that they were worried about.

Honestly, the only reason he was here was because he had gotten a letter of acceptance from his parents' alma mater, and he was leaving in September. If he had been going to the public school, he would have been placed in state custody to remove him from a potentially abusive situation. He snorted to himself. The state department was a joke. Was potential abuse four moths of the year actually enough better than potential abuse all the time that it was really ok to leave him here?

He made his way to the dining room, sitting at the end of the table, with a healthy amount of space between him and his relatives. Just as he finished filling his plate, there was a brisk rapping at the door. Harry stood before anyone could say anything, knowing that none of them would be willing to interrupt their meal when it was probably someone wanting to talk to him anyway.

He opened the door to see a tall, dour man in a severe black suit. "I'm looking for a Mr. Harry James Potter," he said coldly.

"You've found him," Harry said cheerfully, ignoring the man's sour disposition.

"You are Harry Potter?" he said disbelievingly. Harry nodded.

"Won't you come in? Aunt won't like it if I keep you standing on the step." His tone indicated how little he wanted any interaction with his aunt. The man snorted, but stepped gracefully over the sill with the air of a man conferring a great favor. "Be right back." He darted into the dining room, grabbing his plate and sticking it in the fridge, so his aunt couldn't say she thought he was done and throw it away. She'd done that before.

"Who is it, boy?" Uncle Vernon asked nastily. Harry shrugged.

"Wants to talk to me. Should we go to the sitting room, or my room?" he asked indifferently, already knowing the answer.

"Dudders and I will be in the sitting room watching the telly," Vernon said predictably. "It's bound to be quieter in your room." Harry nodded.

"I'm sorry for the interruption, Uncle," he said softly as he headed out the door. He really wasn't, but apologizing seemed to calm his uncle, so it wasn't too much of a burden.

The man was seated stiffly on a paisley couch. Harry chuckled. "You look distinctly uncomfortable," he said, amusement in his voice.

"Very observant."

"Come up to my room. It's not so…" Harry glanced around the room, "suburbian." The man smirked slightly, but stood to follow him. Harry sighed in relief as they passed into his room, and sank down onto his bed, leaving the single chair for the other man.

Harry glanced around the room, trying to see it from a stranger's point of view. The walls and ceiling were a deep, rich blue, and the trimming, carpet, and the inside of the door were silver. His aunt had given him fifty pounds to make changes to the room, so that he wouldn't have a bare room like he had before he'd left. It seemed that the people from the state had only accepted it because at five, the only time he would be in his room was when he was put to bed. The paint and carpet had been new, but someone had given him the sturdy dark walnut bed and desk at a garage sale, and come to help him set it up. The desk chair had been five pounds at a second-hand store.

"At least someone in this blasted house has some taste," the man commented, stepping across the plush carpet that had taken the majority of his money.

"Thank you, sir." The man glanced at him from the corner of his eye.

"You did this?" Harry nodded.

"When Aunt came in to see what I'd done with the room, she said something about mother being the same even without the influence of 'that horrible boy'." Harry drew little quotes in the air, and the man snorted.

"She would. Never an accepting person, your aunt. I still fail to see why the old man placed you here."

"You knew my mother?" Harry asked suddenly.

"Why would you think that?"

"Because you obviously knew my aunt, from what you said, and if you didn't like her, which was also apparent, then you must have known my mother, because there's no other reason that you would be around her." There was a long silence.

"Yes, I knew your mother, and she is surely laughing at me." He sighed. "Perhaps I should start at the beginning."

"A name would be appreciated, among other things."

"Indeed. My name is Severus Snape. I will, of course, expect you to call me sir or professor, since I am an instructor at Hogwarts, where you will be attending. I've been sent to answer any questions you might have, since you haven't been raised in the magical world, and may be confused." He said this in a condescending tone, making Harry frown.

"What's to understand? Magic's real, and I'm gonna learn how to do it." He tilted his head. "Actually, I do have a question though. Could you tell me about my parents? From what I've been able to get out of my aunt, they met at school, so you must have known both of them if you knew my mother." Severus' mouth tightened, but he had sworn to Minerva before he had come here that he would give the boy a chance, and it was only natural that he would want to know about the parents he had never met.

"Your father was an arrogant brat, who thought he owned the world and could command everything in it. He was an only child and he was terribly indulged. I don't think he knew the meaning of the phrase 'you may not' before he entered Hogwarts. He and his friends played cruel pranks on anyone they didn't like, and they formed dislike easily. Your mother, however, was a sweet and gentle person. I shall never understand what she saw in him." Harry nodded slowly, obviously adding his words to his mental imagining of his parents. Severus nodded in satisfaction when he didn't immediately spring to defend his father, as his father would have done. Despite his looks, he was his mother's child in temperament.

"What do you know of your history, child?" Severus asked after a moment.

"Nothing. I couldn't find anything about them online other than a record of my mother's birth, and I don't trust anything my aunt and uncle tell me." Severus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment on that, instead explaining the common view of Harry in the wizarding world. He even went so far as to vaguely define what the public reaction to Harry going to any house would be, so that Lily's son wouldn't be unprepared when he entered Hogwarts. Finally, he stood, announcing that he would be back at ten in the morning to take Harry shopping for his school supplies, and he had better be ready and waiting outside.


	5. Chapter 5

Harry sighed softly as he closed the doors of the closet compartment of his new trunk. He had put all of his purchases inside it, still it the bags, when Professor Snape had taken him shopping for his school supplies, as the professor was an impatient sort of person. It had taken him hours to get everything organized inside, but at least it gave him something besides schoolwork and chores to do. He was continuing his classes until Hogwarts started, and then over the summers, but that didn't make it any easier for a just-turned-11 boy to focus on his studies all day without the encouragement he was used to getting from Fredrick. He was glad one of his chores was taking care of the garden, even if he didn't know anything about gardening. Gardening required being outside, which would have brought attention to the fact that there was a child living at Fredrick's house.

He sighed and flopped back onto his bed. It was almost as good as the one he had at Fredrick's, and much better than the pile of rags he'd collected in the cupboard that he'd slept in before he'd ran away. He sighed. His professor confused him. He'd acted as though he hated Harry, but it was obvious that he had also told him things that nobody else would have. At the bookshop, he'd wordlessly added several books that weren't on the reading list to Harry's pile, giving him a look that dared him to challenge his professor. He hadn't taken the bait. Smiling slightly, he waited for the trunk to convert back to it's usual form before touching his wand to the lock and murmuring books. When he opened it again, it spread into a bookshelf, displaying all of the books he owned, both that he'd bought in Diagon and the ones Fredrick had given him. He'd noticed that the majority of the extra books were potions and figured that this was Snape's subject, so he pulled one of the extra books, The Idiot Beginner's Guide to Potions, and sat down on his bed to peruse it. He was so absorbed in it that his aunt had to pound on the door to get his attention.

"Yes, Aunt?" he said shakily. He hadn't spaced out like that in a long time. Then again, he'd always known where Fredrick was and what he was doing, so he wasn't taken unaware when the man wanted his attention. He just hadn't realized he was that attuned to the man. This was pretty much the first time he'd relaxed since he'd been taken from Fredrick's house, so he hadn't had a chance to space out recently. His aunt frowned at him.

"What are you doing in here?" she asked suspiciously.

"Studying," he said innocently. "I've got to work hard if I'm going to keep up with my normal schooling and the Hogwarts curriculum." She winced at the mention of his mother's alma mater, but said nothing.

"You plan to continue your normal schooling then?" He nodded.

"Of course. I've gotten too far to give it up now." She pursed her lips at the reminder of how advanced he was compared to her son, but held back the derogatory comment that hovered on the edge of her lips, knowing he would report her actions to child services simply for the pleasure of seeing her Dudley taken away from her. "I'll need a ride to Kings Cross on the first, Aunt." Her jaw tightened at his casual orders, but she nodded again. He wouldn't even need to report her if she didn't get him to that school. He'd made enough of a fuss about getting a scholarship -load of crap that it was- and wanting to go to the school that his parents had gone to, that they would call her on it if he was put into the public school she had planned to send him to back before he'd disappeared. How she would love to deny him that, to force him to stay in the normal world, but she couldn't. Though, she mused, at least he was planning to continue his normal schooling. His mother hadn't even had that much respect for the world she was forced to live in.

"How are you going to continue your normal schooling at that place?" she asked suddenly. He looked at her questioningly, but answered anyway.

"On the computer. I've been taking online classes all my life. It's nothing new."

"But will it work at that place?" He shrugged.

"Professor Snape said he would provide a power source for my computer and see to it that I could access the internet," he said nonchalantly. She nodded reluctant approval. He'd always been thorough in the tasks he was set, she'd had no real reason to think it would be any different in a task he had set for himself. It would have amused her to see him at a loss for once though. It wasn't normal for a child to be so self possessed.

"Bring your laundry down to the basement if you want to have any chance of me doing it." Harry shrugged, not moving from his casual sprawl on his bed.

"I'll do it later, thank you for the offer though. I find that I'm too lazy to move right now."

* * *

"Child." Harry jumped at the voice from behind him. He twisted on the swing to look at the man standing behind him. His eyes widened at the black jeans and button-up the man was wearing, making him look completely different from his appearance in the long robes he'd worn when he last saw him.

"Sir?" He seemed to be struggling with something.

"I- merely wished to let you know-" he paused, releasing and taking a deep breath, "that if you are having a serious problem, you may come to me, even if you aren't in my house. Though I expect you to differentiate between important problems and things that that others can take care of. I will be most upset if you disturb me for anything besides the gravest of emergencies." Harry nodded.

"I understand, sir. Thank you for your concern." Snape sneered at him, but didn't deny the charge of concern. He had also agreed that he would withhold the information that Harry had been kidnapped from his home unless it became absolutely necessary for someone to be told. Harry didn't know what the man's reasons were, but he simply didn't want anyone to treat him different, especially since their concern would be misplaced.

* * *

Harry sprawled out on the seats of the train, art book held loosely in his hands. Like any normal eleven year old boy, he'd been entranced by the shiny red steam engine once he'd gotten onto the platform, nerve-wracking though it was. As he passed through the barrier Professor Snape described, he thought he'd heard a woman's voice complaining about the station being so packed with muggles, and snorted to himself. The station was always packed, it wasn't just on this one day. If they had a problem with the crowding, they should have gone somewhere else, shouldn't they?

Rolling, he pulled a pad of paper and a pencil from his trunk. He was tired of reading about it, now he wanted to draw. Flipping his sketch pad to the next blank page, starting a rough sketch of the engine that had so captivated him earlier.

"Can I sit with you? Everywhere else's full," A timid voice said from the door, and Harry shrugged.

"Do as ye will," he replied absently, not looking up from his drawing.

"Thanks. I'm Ron, Ron Weasley," the boy continued, and Harry sighed, looking up at him. He'd never been very good at interacting with kids his age, and his long isolation with Fredrick didn't make it any better.

"Harry Potter," he said, forgetting what Snape had said about his being famous. Ron gasped and his eyes flew to Harry's hair covered forehead.

"Do you really have the- you know- the scar?" Harry thought this was a rather personal question, but didn't see how it would hurt anything, so he pulled his hair back to show it to the redhead. "Wicked."

Harry flashed him a grin, then turned back to his drawing. He finally got the proportions right and pulled out a pen to start inking in the final lines.

"What'r'ya drawin'?" Ron asked after a few minutes of silence.

"The train," Harry replied absently, looking over his work critically before nodding and holding it up for the other boy to see.

"Wicked. That's really good." Harry shrugged, taking it back and starting to erase the pencil lines. The door opened, allowing a blonde shadow to slip through. Noting the absorbed look on the dark haired boy's face, he stayed quiet, listening to their conversation before he announced his presence. "How'd you learn to draw like that?"

"'A young gentleman must be well versed in all facets and skills the common man may learn in his lifetime. This is what separates him from the average man.'," Harry quoted softly, smiling as he thought of the silly face Fredrick would always make at him when he said that.

"Indeed, I'm not surprised you don't know that, _Weasley,"_ the blond sneered. "Your family always has been a bunch of uncultured blood traitors."

"And you are?" Harry asked coolly before Ron could say anything, not liking his attitude towards his possible new friend, but not wanting to get into a fight before school even started.

"My name is Draco Malfoy. I heard Harry Potter's on the train. Is that you?" Draco had obviously decided to ignore Ron unless he said something, which Harry was grateful for. He didn't want them fighting, either.

"That's right," Harry agreed. Studying the blond, he saw the wistfulness in his eyes that he used to see in Fredrick's before he moved in to keep the man company. This boy was lonely.

"Mind if I sit with you? You seem to be the only first year I've found that actually has some class."

"And it harm ye none, do as ye will," Harry repeated. Draco's eyebrow rose, but he moved to sit next to him.

"So, you're a wiran then?" he asked.

"Wiccan," Harry corrected gently. "Yes. Fredrick brought me up in it." Draco blushed at the correction.

"Sorry. Father doesn't really want me to study those weird muggle religions."

"It's may seem weird, but it really does make sense if you think about it," Harry replied, stung.

"I didn't say it didn't make sense. I don't know enough to know."

"Umm, what?" Ron interjected. Harry grinned at him, digging through his bag for his colored pencils, pulling out a bright red.

"Basically, Wiccans are people who live their life by the rule an' it harm ye none, do as ye will, and the belief that anything you do will return to you three-fold, both good and bad. Some can work magic, and when we got my letter, Fredrick said he'd get me in touch with some of the magic workers in our community. I don't know if he'll be able to do anything now though."

"Why not?" Ron asked curiously.

"He got arrested."

"What for?" Harry shrugged.

"Honestly? For taking care of me." Harry shook his head at their confusion. "Don't ask. It's not something that I'm willing to explain right now." Draco accepted that with a small nod, but Ron looked like he only accepted that because he didn't want Draco to know things about his new friend. Harry noted that Ron seemed a bit possessive of him, especially on their short acquaintance, but that didn't bother him. Fredrick considered him his child when they had first met, before they'd actually met even. Draco was more the wild card. He seemed to be unsure, depending on others' perceptions of him to know who he was.

There was silence in the compartment for a while, until the door slid open again.

"Have any of you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one," A bushy-haired girl said officiously.

"I don't believe we have," Harry said politely, seeing the rude comments his companions were about to make. She nodded and spun around, only to turn back.

"We're getting close to the school. You should change into your robes."

"Thank you. I lost track of time," Harry said politely. She smiled at him as she slipped out the door.

"Why waste your time on her? She's just a stupid little mudblood." Harry gave him a cold stare as Ron jumped up, face angrily red, to protest.

"What part of do no harm did you not get? I'm not going to do anything to hurt anyone. Not even hurting their feelings if I can help it." Harry paused, head tilted. "And what do you mean, she's a 'mudblood'? What's that mean, besides obviously being a very foul name?" Draco flushed slightly at the the censorship in Harry's tone.

"It means her parent's aren't magical," Ron said tensely, glaring at Draco. "He's saying her blood is dirty because she's muggleborn."

"Well, that's stupid. Blood's blood. If someone's blood's dirty, it generally kills them. It's called blood poisoning." Draco looked shocked that someone would say something like that, especially someone he'd very quickly come to count as a friend. He'd assumed that Harry would basically believe the same as he'd been taught, but with the addition of not hurting people. To have him calmly contradicting the most basic principle he'd been taught -logically!- was bewildering. Ron looked a little put out at his calm response, though, which was comforting.

"What would you know about it?" Draco asked acerbically, trying to cover his confusion. Harry smiled sharply.

"I'm working on the same level as the average fifteen year old in my non-magical schooling. The subject came up in a science lecture Fredrick had me watch online. I looked it up afterwards."

"Blimey. Fifteen?! And you're only just 11?"

"How do you know I'm only just? For all you know I could be about to turn 12," Harry asked curiously.

"Everyone knows your birthday, mate. You're famous."

"Bloody being famous," Harry groused. He hated people knowing things about him that he hadn't told them. All the years of semi-hiding had taken a toll on his mentality, making him very secretive. Only Fredrick could see through his facade, because he'd watched and helped him build it.

"You don't want people to know about you?"

"No. I've lived in hiding since I was six. I'm not particularly happy to be leaving it now."

"And to be leaving it for a world where you're known when you weren't prepared for it's hard," Draco said understandingly. Ron gave him a strange look.

"What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously. Draco shrugged.

"I was brought up isolated in the Manor, but I always knew I'd take my place in wizarding society when I was old enough."

"But I was trying to stay hidden for as long as possible," Harry replied softly to the unspoken question. "I didn't want to leave, and Fredrick would never make me do anything I didn't want to." His voice trailed off as he looked blankly out the window, lost in his thoughts. "But then Fredrick was arrested, and it was either come here or stay with my relatives. I thought here would probably be the safer option," he murmured absently.

"Safer?" Draco said interestedly, picking up on the odd word. Harry nodded.

"My relatives don't like me too much," he explained softly. "And my cousin is an overweight bully. I'm safer far away from them. I've always been small, and they weren't good to me as a child." Unconsciously, his fists clenched. "I'm so small because they starved me when I was little." The other two looked shocked that anyone would starve a child. Harry turned to stared out the window, blindly seeking to escape their pity-filled gazes, wondering why he had trusted strangers with this information, possible friends or not. After a moment, Draco touched his shoulder.

"I have to go. Father wouldn't be pleased to hear that I spent the entire train ride with a Weasley. He's going to be angry that I've slipped my guards for as long as I have already." Harry nodded slowly.

"Ok, Draco. I'll see you when we get to the school then?" Draco nodded and slipped from the door again.

"I don't like him," Ron said as soon as he was gone. "The Malfoys think they're so much better than us."

"I feel sorry for him," Harry replied softly. "He's never been exposed to any point of view besides his fathers'. He's getting a major culture shock now. When I said that about blood poisoning, couldn't you see how much that upset his world? He expected you to disagree, and his father said your opinion didn't matter because you're family has always disagreed with his, but did you see how he expected me to agree with him? He'd never before been exposed to the idea that his father might not be right all the time. He's re-evaluating everything he's ever known now, or else he's burying his head in the sand. Only time will tell." Ron nodded, oddly looking slightly bewildered, but as though he understood what Harry was trying to say. Harry guessed that it was the thought of a Malfoy re-evaluating that confused him.

Harry sighed, curling up into a ball, burying his face in the soft sleeve of his faded blue cashmere sweater. Innocently, the two had gotten him thinking about Fredrick, and the Dursleys, and he couldn't seem to shake himself out of the morose mood those two subjects always put him in. Crossing his arm over his eyes, he cried silently. After the Dursleys, he'd never re-learned how to cry out loud, and he didn't particularly want to.

* * *

'No, please, I can't go to Slytherin', Harry pleaded.

'Child, you belong in Slytherin. Slytherin will shelter you, and yet help you build greatness of your own, and not that of a deed that occurred when you were but a babe.'

'But I'll never be able to have a normal life if I'm in Slytherin. Everyone will think I'll go evil. I'll be persecuted by the entire Wizarding World.' The hat paused as it apparently found something interesting.

'Ah, Severus. He's such a keen man. A model of his house. Yes, yes, I can respect what he said. And I certainly wouldn't want any of my children to be unhappy. Very well child. Now, remember, you must come and visit with me sometime soon. But for now, let's put you in,' "GRYFFINDOR!" Harry slumped with relief before pulling it off and handing it to Professor MacGonnagal with a small bow. As he sat at the red-bedecked table, he glanced up at Professor Snape, who nodded his satisfaction. Harry nodded back, a small grin on his face, then turned to find Draco at the Slytherin table. Draco looked upset though he covered it well for an eleven year old. Harry winked at him when he glanced over, and he rolled his eyes. Moments later, Ron dropped down beside him, and clapped him on the shoulder. Harry grinned back at him.

"I was half afraid you'd end up in Slytherin, you're that odd," Ron confided about halfway through dinner.

"Would that have been bad?" Harry asked curiously, not ready to let him know that he almost had. Ron started to say something sharp, then cut himself off, looking thoughtful.

"I was about to say yes, but really, I don't know. I know my family looks down on them, and I was always taught to do the same." Harry grinned slightly at the fact that Ron had obviously taken the 'father can't always be right' speech he'd made earlier about Draco and applied it to himself as well. "Malfoy seemed to be ok, besides being a blood purist." Harry grinned and punched him on the shoulder.

"I almost did go to Slytherin," he whispered back. "But I convinced the hat Gryffindor would be better for me." Ron slapped him on the back.

"Good for you. We get to be in the same house this way." He caught Draco's gaze from across the room, and he winked at the blond again, making him relax slightly.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mr. Potter, would you mind explaining to me exactly how you managed to make this particular potion explode?" Professor Snape said harshly, and then chopped his hand to the side, cutting Harry off. "Detention, tonight, Mr. Potter. I'll expect you immediately after dinner."

"Yes, Professor," Harry muttered, looking desultorily at his ruined potion. He'd been almost finished when someone had thrown something into his cauldron and caused the explosion. And it had been going perfectly, too.

"Tough luck, mate," Ron whispered as he struggled to understand the instructions enough to complete the potion creditably. Harry sighed.

"It happens, I suppose," he said resignedly. He looked across the room towards the Slytherins, and noticed that Draco was looking at him, eyes oddly guilty. Harry's eyes narrowed and the blond winced before turning back to his potion. Harry didn't say anything, not wanting to kick off another of Ron's anti-Slytherin moments. He'd listened to enough of them as it was. Turning back to clean up his workstation, though, he wondered why Draco had purposely ruined his potion.

* * *

"Professor?" Harry asked timidly, poking his head around the door frame. Professor Snape stood and strode towards him.

"Come. There's a Slytherin house meeting, and I wish you to be there." Harry nodded silently, trotting behind the professor. His relations with the Slytherin house had been odd. After the feast, they had been mostly condescending and standoffish, but the next day, he had been treated to skeptical and considering looks. Though they still hadn't spoken to him, with the exception of Draco, anyway. The blonde's more open curiosity about him had been one reason why Draco's sabotage had confused him so. He hadn't seemed the type to do something so pointlessly malicious.

The portrait swung open automatically at the sight of the head of house. Harry followed him in, noting the abrupt silence when the students noticed the man. Harry trailed along in the wake left as the students instinctively parted to let their professor through to stand before the fireplace. As he turned, he made a small gesture, and Harry dropped to sit on the hearth beside him, curling comfortably on a cushion someone had tossed in the corner. He rested his temple against the cool stone, letting his eyes flutter shut for a moment, focused on Snape's speech.

"You want us to treat this child like one of us, when he doesn't understand enough to even respect you enough to pay attention?" an older year protested, gesturing towards Harry. Snape glanced at him.

"Harry, what have I been saying?" he commanded. Harry recited the last five sentences without opening his eyes or moving his head from the cool stones. Snape raised an eyebrow at the student, who bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Snape clapped sharply, and Harry flinched, his eyes squeezed shut in pain. Snape looked at him oddly.

"What's wrong, child?" he asked. Harry shrugged slightly, forcing the expression from his face.

"I've had a headache since DADA. I think there's something in the room I'm allergic to or something, because it kept getting worse while I was in there, but it started going away once I got out. Though, it flared up at dinner, too..."

"But dinner is loud," Snape observed. Harry nodded slightly.

"Yes sir. It's mostly manageable now. You just startled me." Snape nodded. He turned and swept from the room, pausing in the doorway.

"I expect you to be in your own dorms by curfew, Potter," he warned, then was gone. Harry opened his eyes, and looked out across the assembled Slytherins. Most were content to ignore him, but the first years, about half of the second years, and a few of the third years were watching him curiously. He sighed softly, not really feeling up to socializing with them, but figuring he should take advantage of the introduction Snape had given him. He could tell from their stances that if he blew this, he wouldn't get another chance.

* * *

"Where ya been, Harry?" Ron asked sleepily when Harry returned to his dorm later that night. Harry shrugged.

"Detention with Snape, remember?" Ron winced. He'd experienced enough detentions with the man by now to not want to know what Harry had been put to doing.

"That sucks, mate," he said with feeling. Harry shrugged again.

"It wasn't too bad," he said. Ron thought he was putting up a brave front and clapped him companionably on the shoulder before going back to sleep, but in all honesty it was the truth. Other than the fact that his slowly dissipating headache had put him in a sour mood, he'd enjoyed the hour and a half he'd spent in Slytherin, which was as long as he could stay and still get back to the tower by the first years' curfew. It was interesting, being around a bunch of people who thought roughly the same way Fredrick did. Oh, but he missed the man though. He sat on his bed and pulled a sheet of paper from his satchel.

_Dear Fredrick,_

_I miss you terribly. School's going pretty well, and I enjoy my classes. There's so many things here that I'd never dreamed were real. The school is in a real castle, and there are suits of armor in the hallways that sometimes follow the students around. Sometimes they even sing, but since their heads are empty they can't remember the words too well. There's a poltergeist that likes to hide inside the suits of armor when they're singing and put in rude lyrics when the armor can't remember the right words._

_Ever since I got here I keep hearing 'he looks just like his father with his mother's eyes'. Quite frankly, it's annoying. I know, people are trying to connect with me, and all that, but I haven't known my parents since I was a year old. So while it's nice to know that I look like them, I really don't need to hear it from every adult I meet. But all the adults that knew them say it, and the ones that didn't stare at my scar. A few did both. _

_I hope you're doing well, not being treated to bad and all that, though I've heard that men in your situation often have trouble. I sincerely hope you aren't. I love you Fredrick, and you took better care of me than my family did._

_On the upside, child services are watching my family now. My aunt gave me fifty pounds to redecorate my bedroom. It's a lovely dark blue with silver now, and a dark-wood canopy bed. I wish you could see it. I even found a desk and chair that almost exactly match the bed and nightstand. It's like they're a set. I love it. I'd love my room more if the company was better, but I can go into my room and be undisturbed for hours. Only my aunt ever comes in there._

Harry yawned and put the half-finished letter back into his bag, planning to finish it tomorrow, and slipped under the covers.

* * *

"Sorry I did that in Potions yesterday," Draco muttered, looking down at his hands. Harry shrugged and turned to inspect the small rosebush in the courtyard where they'd met.

"It's ok. Professor Snape told you to, didn't he?" Draco nodded.

"Yeah. Still, I felt bad about it." Harry shrugged.

"I'm sure he was watching me, knowing that he wouldn't see the end product. I wouldn't be surprised if I still got my right grade. It was just kind of frustrating to have it explode in my face when I was so close to being finished. And it was worse to know that it wasn't my fault."

"Yeah, I can imagine. But godfather needed a reason to give you detention."

"Snape's your godfather?" Draco shrugged, and then nodded.

"Yeah. Mother trusts him, and he was father's protégé for a while, and they're still friends." Harry looked at him for a moment, and then shrugged. It wasn't like it really mattered, but he made a mental note to give a little more weight to what Draco said about Snape, since the kid should know a bit more about his own godfather than the general student body. "He's been teaching me potions since I was five." Harry rolled his eyes.

"That's so not fair. No wonder you get everything right." Draco laughed.

"Father will tolerate nothing less than perfection when it comes to my schooling." He sobered a bit. "I'll be in big trouble if I don't get top marks." Harry nodded. It fit his understanding of the man from other things Draco had said.


End file.
